


Zip.

by Vixx2pointOh



Series: The Unwritten [10]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, It's her dresses' fault, Lair Smut, No Plot/Plotless, Post-Season/Series 06, Shameless Smut, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 17:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12370095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixx2pointOh/pseuds/Vixx2pointOh
Summary: Her dress has a zip.A zip that goes all....the....way....down.Set just before 6x01.That purple dress is stunning, gorgeous and Oliver has seen it before....





	Zip.

**Author's Note:**

> Her dresses do something to me alright.
> 
> Just a little shameless smut to round out the weekend. Hope you like it.

 

The air con was on the fritz again.  
Oliver could feel the beads of sweat pooling at the base of his spine as he shifted uncomfortably in his suit. The leather was hardly forgiving in normal circumstances let alone after he had just roughhoused with at least ten street level criminals and now with the lack of air con it was a veritable sauna in that thing.

As the last of the team left, Oliver peeled down the zipper of his jacket and breathed a sigh of relief as even just the mildly chilled air brushed against his tempered flesh.

The sound of her heels tapping out a rhythm on the floor was a comforting and familiar tune to his tired ears.

“You’re still here?” Oliver smiled as he turned to face her advancing steps.  
She smiled in return, _god he had missed that smile_ , as she stopped at an arm's distance from him.

“I was trying to fix the air con,” she lamented, clearly she hadn’t been able to and to get a technician to look at the air con in a super secret lair wasn’t exactly a viable option.

Oliver chuckled as his eyes wandered down her dress, it was a rich dark violet crepe that hugged and clinched in spots that found Oliver’s tongue drawing habitual lines across his lower lip.  
“Dressed like that?” Oliver remarked which caused another smile to blink across her rosy lips.

Felicity smoothed both palms down the sides of the dress and chuckled out a breath before her cheeks blushed a sweet tinge of pink.  
“This old thing?” she laughed him off.

The truth was Felicity had been part way through a dress fitting after having the sleek evening gown tailored when Oliver had asked for all hands on deck, pushing Curtis into the field and having Felicity back at the coms.

She had intended to change into one of the spare outfits she had tucked away in the lair once Oliver called a return to base, but the heat had her looking up the air con specs instead.

“I thought I might wear it to the Police Academy Graduation if the offer…” she paused, a tentative lip snagged between her teeth.

They were good… _better_ …the last five months had had it’s fair share of trials but they were good, or at least getting to a place that would be considered good. Sometimes, like this moment, there was glimpses of uncertainty, but they were both instep, moving forward, together.

“Of course,” Oliver replied without the need for her to finish asking, “I asked you because I would love you to come.”  
_You're a part of my life again._  
His smile said the words his mouth didn’t.

Felicity nodded, a mixture of thankful and relief, before her eyes caught something they had missed earlier. His jacket was partially undone and a slither of taut smooth skin, peppered with tiny, glistening beads of sweat was exposed to her longing stare.

Her lips puckered then fell open as she swallowed back a tiny, threatening gasp.

Her fingers ached to scooped up those tiny droplets of musk and feel his velvety soft skin underneath, or to traces the ridges of the parts of him that weren’t smooth, but we’re _Oliver_ all the same. Perhaps she even loved those rough, twisted scars even more because they showed just how hard Oliver was willing to work for what he needed. His strength, his resilience, his _fight_ was etched in each one of those marks.

And he let her know them all.  
Intimately, inside and out.  
Something he had with no one else.  
Something that made her feel safe again, loved again, _trusted_ again.

“I should probably head home,” Felicity spoke when she realised two minutes of silence had lapsed between them.

Oliver didn’t say anything. He wanted to, he wanted to smile and ask her to come home, he wanted the love of his life to share the same space with the son he was coming to know. But he wouldn’t push her, not tonight.

Felicity turned her head towards the computer screens. He didn't catch her words but he assumed there was something over there that needed her attention. His fixed smile grew a little longer and his azure eyes grew a little softer before he nodded.

And then she turned around, nude heels on hard polished granite. A zip that careened down her spine, swept over the round of her ass and dropped away to the hem.

Her dress was held together, pressed like a hug around that perfect body, by a zip.

A taunting, teasing, coyly waving zip.  
And it was a little undone.  
Salaciously showing off just the tip of her spine.  
As if to say _look but don’t touch._

But Oliver wanted to touch. He wanted to touch so badly that his fingers ached and his mouth dried like the Sahara.

He wanted to dance fingers down her spine, pushing the zip, lower and lower and lower.  
Oliver moaned, he couldn't have stopped it if he wanted to.

“Everything alright?” Felicity asked as she brushed back sticky tendrils of hair that the hot air had glue to her face.  
Oliver swallowed, or at least attempted to, but his mouth was so dry it felt like it was crammed full of cotton balls. Ritualistically he drew his tongue across his parched lips and watched as Felicity blushed a little deeper red.

She could feel the heat too and it had _nothing_ to do with the air con.

“Your zip has come down,” Oliver finally managed to strangle out words.  
“Oh,” Felicity peeped before she turned her back towards him once again, “would you mind tugging it back up?”  
Her fingers flailed to reach the tag before they gave up and traced an idyllic line along her shoulder, tripping over the small strap of material there.  
Oliver dutifully reached for the tag, his mind set on doing as she had asked. But he couldn’t, he didn’t want to.  
“I’d rather pull it down,” he answered with a thick, smoky gravel between his words.

He saw Felicity tense.  
_Shit_ he shouldn’t have said that.

 _Did she hear that right?_  
She was certain she had. It was true that sometimes her imagination played tricks on her, but this wasn’t one of those occasions. Oliver had definitely, categorically said what she had heard, and those words were still bouncing down her body and thrumming between her legs.

They hadn’t been intimate again yet, not like that at least. Not since the wine-infused sex on the mats a short walk away. It wasn't something they talked about, something they necessarily decided on, it was just how the cards fell after the island.

Her breath hitched as she waited expectantly for Oliver to take it back.  
But he didn’t.  
Not for stretched and silent minutes.

He didn’t speak until the silence became too much.  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t...” he started.  
Felicity sucked in a breath of air before her fingers reached  
the zipper tag and tugged it...down.  
Just a fraction.  
A tiny, miniscule tug.  
But it was an answer.  
It was _the_ answer.

“Okay,” she breathed before her lips snagged between her teeth and she wondered what his next move would be.  
She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

It was familiar, the feeling of his lips against her skin.  
His kiss bled into her neck, drinking in the subtle notes of her citrus scented skin.  
_Fuck_ it reminded him of languid Bali nights and his cock ached at the recount of it.

She keened under the light pressure of his kisses and the smoky moan that dripped from her lips sent Oliver's libido into the stratosphere. He had dumbed it down for so long, repressed it knowing it would be worth whatever wait was fitting, but now desire and hunger ripped through him like an animal.

His large fingers fumbled and twisted with the zipper tag. He could fire an arrow from an impossible distance into a tiny whole, but a tormenting zipper was besting him.

When Oliver finally had a grip his whole body sighed which misted and mixed with the thin veil of perspiration across Felicity's back. He listened to every soft mewl and every stilted gasp as he glided the zip downward, like a hot knife through butter.

Felicity shrugged the dress from her shoulders as zip peeled, down, down, down.  
His hot fingers melted into her skin.  
He watched her breathing, her shoulders steadily rising and falling as her naked back opened up to him.

“Oliver,” his name dripped like warm honey from between her pillowed lips.  
He stilled his finger on the zip just above the curve of his ass.

This was it, she was going to ask him to stop and he would. Of course he would, because he loved her. But it would hurt, _fuck_ it would hurt to not keep caressing her skin with his hot, wet lips.

Her hand came up and circled around the back of her neck, allowing her slender fingers to card through his hair.  
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his strangled voice straining to hide his fear.  
“No, I just,” she chuckled, her bare shoulders bouncing as her hair swished side to side, mesmerising him, “I just like saying your name.”

Oliver breathed out relief mixed with joy before he peppered her shoulders with deep, hungry kisses. The zipper slid over her ass and she moaned his name again, only this time with thread of desperation.

Her dress fell to the floor, a pool of purple crepe and taunting zipper, before Oliver’s hands devoured her. He had forgotten just how much they could swarm and swamp her.

Felicity turned in his arms and reached her lips up to kiss his. He tasted just as she remembered him. Her tongue slipped between his lips and danced around the warm, dewy confines of his mouth and playfully duelled his tongue.

He fisted carnal fingers into her hair under the elastic of her ponytail and Felicity gasped against his lips before her teeth gently nipped him. The elastic band loosened and fell from her hair, golden locks curtaining his hand.

Felicity's nimble fingers delved under the sides of his jacket forcing the zipper to pull apart further down. Her hands greedily devoured all the familiar places – the crevices of his abs, the mountains of his chest and the slopes of his shoulders. Everything was just as she knew it, with only one exception.

That was new, that was different – the scarred flesh where his Bratva tattoo once sat.  
Her fingers walked hesitantly over that space and she felt Oliver tremble underneath her touch.  
“It’s okay,” she whispered against his lips.  
He was safe with her too.

The last teeth of his jacket zipper cracked open and Oliver jerked it from his shoulders before it fell, discarded onto the polished floor.

They stumbled together blindly, backwards and side wards and twisting until Oliver's back slammed into a wall. Without their lips leaving off each other, Oliver turned her, eliciting a hiss from her as the cool wall touched her sweltering skin.

His lips dropped from her, if only to allow his eyes to ravage her. She was a vision of cream, flawless skin, dotted with freckles that he once remembered trying to count. His fingers walked the lace of her black strapless bra before his thumb dipped behind the fabric and found her pebbled nipple.

Felicity moaned as his fingers twisted around the tiny bud. It had been so long for both of them.

She caught his wrist with her hand and slowly drew it back before she lifted off the wall and walked her fingers to the clasp of her bra. With her eyes affixed to his she flicked the clasp undone and whipped the bra off with a wickedly sensuous smile.

Oliver looked on, almost panting, as Felicity continued the show. Her fingers dipped under the almost sheer black panties, skimming against her feverish skin that was so desperate to be touched by hands that weren’t her own. Still, she slipped one finger between her folds and watched as Oliver’s tongue darted in and out of his mouth, coating his lips. Ever since their game of Simon Says, Felicity learned just what buttons to push to excite Oliver and she was thankful to know they still had the same, glaringly obvious effect on him.

But the teasing would have to wait, because she needed something more and the growling sensation in her core was gnawing away for satisfaction. She wanted, no she _needed_ Oliver. Hard, fast, now.

She slid her panties down her legs and kicked them free from the ankles. Felicity could see Oliver chomping at the bit to touch her, encase her, fill her and it took only a nod for him to pounce.

He lifted her up the wall, sinking her pelvis into his waist before she locked her legs at the ankles around him. Her sex dripped against his core and she bit down on her lip at the absolutely delirious pleasure of it. She heard the crack of the zip on his pants and Felicity smiled voraciously to herself. Oliver wanted it just as hard, fast and urgently as she did.

His cock sliced between her folds making her back writhe against the wall and her lips pant out his name. His mouth dropped to her breast, licking and nibbling at the nipple before his lips enveloped it. The flat of his tongue bathed against her taut nipple while he thrust his shaft between her folds, coating his length in her juices.

Her fingers traversed down his chest before one grappled with the base of his hard, thick cock. She shifted herself above him and sunk Oliver into her entrance with a slow, twisted grind. They both moaned, him at her tight walls clamping down around each inch that sunk inside her; and her at the stretched feeling of being completely filled by him.

When he was completely inside her he paused to savour the moment as they locked impassioned eyes before she bucked her hips and pressed the tip of his cock into her smooth walls.

Oliver took the hint and drew almost all the way out, his tip hovering just inside her, before he plunged himself back in. One of Felicity's shoes toppled to the floor as she lurched up the wall, heavy moans of pleasure filling the air.

He repeated again, and again, in a steady rhythm before he began to build the tempo, thrusting faster and deeper. Her breasts bounced and her nipples scraped against his chest.

Felicity’s fingers dug trenches into Oliver's shoulders as his thrusts continued to skate her up the wall. Her lips fell to his neck where she chewed and sucked and soothed with slow strokes of her tongue.  
“Yes,’ he groaned, his voice desperate and gravelled, “god yes Felicity.”

He forgot his name. He forgot his past. He forgot his mistakes and his triumphs.  
In that moment Oliver forgot everything but Felicity.  
And Felicity, in that moment, forgot everything except Oliver.

All the colours of the rainbow became Felicity.  
All the digits in her phone number became Oliver.

And then they careened over the edge together.  
In rafts of hot, breathy moans and quiet, shuddering whispers.

His cock thrummed and trembled inside her as her walls tightened and twitched around him.

Their lips met in a silent, long and lingered kiss. A kiss that kept them anchored together long after their climaxes had tapered off.  
“Oliver,” Felicity whispered into his ear as he started to lower her down the wall.  
“Mmmm?” he growled, satisfaction leaking from each facet of his expression.  
“I’m going to need you to zip me back up,” she smiled coyly.  
Oliver simply smiled.

Just smiled.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading....
> 
> I can't believe I dipped my toes back into canon... lol.
> 
> Twitter/Tumblr @someonesaidcake


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